


Attentive

by blushunder (ingthing)



Category: Yuri!!! on Ice (Anime)
Genre: Alpha Katsuki Yuuri, Alpha/Beta/Omega Dynamics, Anal Fingering, Anal Sex, Consensual, Established Relationship, Kissing, Knotting, M/M, Mating Cycles/In Heat, Omega Verse, Omega Victor Nikiforov, Scenting, pre-heat
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2017-02-21
Updated: 2017-02-21
Packaged: 2018-09-25 23:29:12
Rating: Explicit
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 3,281
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/9851831
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/ingthing/pseuds/blushunder
Summary: Victor's heat is coming up, and his wonderful fiancé sees him through it.





	

**Author's Note:**

> Thanks to [Ash (fan_nerd)](http://archiveofourown.org/users/fan_nerd/), aka OMEGA!VICTOR SMUTLORD SUPREME for all the constant egging on!
> 
>  
> 
> Also thanks to [Denny (jellyfishfics)](http://archiveofourown.org/users/jellyfishfics) and [Cece (hellocecily)](http://archiveofourown.org/users/hellocecily) for also always encouraging me!
> 
> This is just a short thing since I don't have a lot of time, but I hope you enjoy it!
> 
> Not beta'd.

It's a quiet Sunday night when Victor hugs his arms around Yuuri's neck from behind the sofa, Victor's phone moved in front of Yuuri's view of the book in his hands. On the screen is a calendar with a long purple bar marking the span of a week five days from Monday.

"Yuuri," Victor murmurs into his fiancé's shoulder, bumping their heads together. "My heat's coming up."

Yuuri simply nods. "I thought so; I can smell it." It's sometimes hard to detect one's own scent, but to Yuuri, Victor's scent has become more powerful over the span of the weekend. It'll be Victor's pre-heat soon, and Yuuri is thankful that they have some experience with this type of thing.

The last time Victor's heat rolled around, almost half a year ago, it'd been two years since Victor had come off of suppressants. It wouldn't be healthy to continue on them, and Victor's doctor had warned that it would be difficult to spend a delayed heat alone. Smiling blindingly, Victor had held up the ring on his right hand and told them that _that_ would be the least of his worries.

It had taken them both completely by surprise by coming early, just a few days after Victor's gold medal in the European Figure Skating Championships.

None of their preparations had been complete.

Their first heat together was much less than perfect, with Yuuri more panicked than pleasured and Victor more frustrated than sated— but Victor wouldn't rather have anything else. Despite the heat's challenges, Victor decided to forgo suppressants when he realized his next heat would be during off-season— they could always learn from their mistakes, and the experience had brought them closer, which was more important than anything else.

Maybe this time, they can truly enjoy themselves.

It's comforting to hear Yuuri's breaths come so calmly at the reminder Victor's heat is coming up, and Victor simply squeezes closer, glad his love no longer shies away at the close contact. His feelings are more delicate around heats, and while Victor will always respect Yuuri's wishes, he might cry if he's pushed away now.

Softly, Yuuri pats his arm, book placed to the side on a sofa cushion as he turns to address him. "Victor, let's go take a bath. You sound tired."

Victor nods, but doesn't truly relax until after the long soak, body warm from the water and eyes drooping closed as Yuuri pulls the covers over him.

 

* * *

 

When Victor wakes the next morning, his body absolutely _hates_ him. He can't remember the last time there's been so much tightness in his shoulders or his neck; his brain is still deep in the trenches of sleep even though he's gotten well over seven hours of it, and it feels like his entire body is aching— and not in the indulgent we-had-great-sex-last-night way.

His pained groan stirs Yuuri from sleep, and Yuuri yawns as he stretches an arm over to rest a hand on Victor's hair. He mumbles a quiet "good morning," and Victor can't agree with the greeting less.

"My body wants to kill me." He grunts, wishing he could get comfy and melt back into the mattress. A peek at the alarm clock on his bedstand reveals that it's already nearing ten, and he sighs. He'd normally be up and eating the fibrous muesli Yuuri finds unappetizing ("like eating coarse papier-mâché") after a morning run by now. Maybe Yuuri turned their alarm off, since he's still dressed in his sleepwear.

"Sorry about that," pressing a kiss to Victor's forehead, Yuuri says. "Do you want me to get your heating pad? Or breakfast? We should eat."

Victor shakes his head, turning over with a wince to face Yuuri, reaching out to request a hug. "It can wait till lunch."

On cue, Yuuri comes close, pulling down the side of his shirt so the collar exposes more of his neck; Victor hones in on it immediately, nestling his nose against it and feeling more relaxed by the second as he drinks in Yuuri's musk. It's crisp yet deep, like warmed saké, with hints of sandalwood and the undertone of Yuuri himself. It floods his body with calm and Yuuri reaches a hand up to brush his bangs back and admire the pretty curve of his brows from above.

It's such a luxury to be able to laze around and scent to their content.

It's an hour later, when Victor's falling asleep, that Yuuri pulls himself out of Victor's hold and pads quietly to the kitchen to make food.

 

* * *

 

Victor feels considerably better the next day—fantastic, even, for pre-heat standards— and they decide to go out shopping for supplies, bringing Makkachin with them.

They stock up on Victor's favorite brand of energy bars in a few flavors, some chocolate for variety, sports drinks for dehydration, a jug of water, and tissues. At checkout, Victor remembers something, and he turns to Yuuri as he hands his credit card to the cashier.

"I almost forgot we might need lubricant and condoms." Victor points out, taking Yuuri by surprise.

"I…" Yuuri trails off, fully aware they're surrounded by quite a few other shoppers, before continuing in a hushed voice as Victor signs the paper receipt and they take the shopping bags. "Well, aren't you on contraceptives?"

Victor's eyebrows go up towards his high hairline at the suggestion laid plain in Yuuri's question, and he gasps. " _Yuuri_ , you've been thinking about having sex without condoms?"

"Forget it," Yuuri murmurs, face red from the thought. "I just thought… Last time it was a hassle during your actual heat."

"I _am_ on birth control. We'll just have to set an alarm or something so I take it on time every day next week." Victor sounds very pleased, and Yuuri nods sheepishly in agreement.

That's _one_ more thing to look forward to after Victor's pre-heat ends.

They untie Makkachin from the railings outside the supermarket and go to the pharmacy for lubricant, cooling forehead pads, and chafing cream before heading back.

 

* * *

 

The forehead pads come in handy very quickly. What started as a quiet summer day overturns itself into the part of pre-heat that Victor dreads the most.

Almost as soon as they got home, as though stepping through their apartment door is a trigger, the mild discomfort Victor's been enduring all day flares, a wave of nausea clogging his chest as he runs for the hall bathroom. Yuuri drops the bags on the floor of the entryway, and Makkachin bounds after them into the cramped, tiled room.

Yuuri is careful not to get too close, but he helps pull the bangs back from Victor's dampened forehead, and Victor can see the glimmer of Yuuri's concerned expression from the corner of his watery eyes. Yuuri purses his lips, then asks if Victor's alright.

It's a silly question— Victor's not alright. His head is spinning, his limbs feel like jelly, his skin is choked with the sweat under his clothes, and suddenly, smells are _too much_. The stink of the toilet water and the cloying city-stench of their clothes and Makkachin's coat is stifling.

He dry heaves, and Yuuri ushers Makkachin out into the living room, changing into the sleeping shirt and shorts he'd worn that morning before returning to see to Victor.

This was what had sparked all his worries before Victor's last heat. It was the suddenness of it all, how utterly unprepared he was despite knowing what could happen. He'd been through secondary sex ed; he knew what was going on in Victor's body, how it would prepare for the possibility of children— but no textbook can really prepare for the gravity of the real thing.

He knows how to deal with it now, thank god, and Yuuri approaches Victor gently, coaxing him into his chest and letting Victor soak in his smell. Thank god Victor wore a button-down shirt today. It makes it much easier for Yuuri to undress him as his fiancé clutches at his collar with shaky hands, and though the hit of cool air to Victor's feverish skin must be unpleasant, he seems less distressed with the clothing away from his nose.

Yuuri manages to lug him out the door, down the hall, and into their bedroom, where he helps Victor into bed and cocoons their sheets around him. They smell like both him and Yuuri, since they haven't been changed for a while, but even that can't soothe Victor.

" _Yuuri,_ " Victor pleads, what for, he doesn't know— Yuuri is right in front of him, and it should be enough. The cool press of Yuuri's hand to his forehead makes him shiver, and his fiancé tuts worryingly.

"You're really burning up." He remarks. "I'll get you some water and a forehead pack."

To Victor's protest, Yuuri gets up to leave, and he almost panics, grabbing for Yuuri's hand. It's totally irrational; Yuuri isn't leaving forever. It's the hormones and pre-heat is what this fear is— but it claws at his nerves anyway. Victor takes a moment to look up at Yuuri, corners of his eyes tightening through the tears. No, Yuuri isn't leaving him. Leaving the room temporarily, yes, but it's just that: temporary. His grip relaxes, and he takes a deep breath. "Hurry back," he croaks, and Yuuri offers an apologetic smile in return.

As promised, Yuuri returns with water and the forehead pads, and he helps Victor with both. The anxiousness is ebbing away from Victor's scent now, mellowing out a little though the man is still wracked with his pre-heat. Victor, Yuuri has learned, smells sweet before his heats— not sickly like confectionary, but spicy-sweet like cloves and pear and freesia, a smell that's powerful and irresistible.

But despite the dryness of his mouth and the itching arousal settling in his groin, Yuuri only gives Victor a scant kiss before moving away. "You know I can't be in here," he sighs as Victor throws him better puppy-eyes than Vicchan ever did. "I'll check on you, but you need to rest."

"You're so _unfair_ ," Victor whines. "You can't stay with me? Your poor, suffering omega?"

The pliant tone of Victor's voice is disarming, but Yuuri is nothing if not stubborn. He shakes his head determinedly. "I'll leave you my shirt if you want, but I can't stay with you."

If that's all Yuuri's offering, Victor will take it, and he sighs in resignation, holding a hand out to receive the garment. At the very least, it'll smell like Yuuri.

As Yuuri pulls the shirt over his head, Victor stares longingly at his tantalizing body, making Yuuri frown embarrassedly at him when he notices Victor's gawking. The shirt hits him in the face, along with a noseful of Yuuri's scent, and he laughs for the first time since coming home as Yuuri leaves the room.

Yuuri sees to Victor, bringing him various worn articles of clothing, drinks of water, Victor's pills, and balanced meals. He gives him gentle wipe-downs for the fluid beginning to slide between his thighs and the sweat that forms a salty film over his skin— it's a maddening touch, since Victor wants nothing more than for Yuuri to explore deeper. Yuuri even wears scent-blocking masks, to Victor's dismay (he's quite the fan of kissing) but, beyond the ever-present wish that Yuuri would simply push him down and knot him already, Victor is happy that Yuuri is so attentive.

 

* * *

 

Two days later, Yuuri cracks open the door of their bedroom after spending another night in their guest room, and Victor smells different.

The sweetness from before still lingers, but it's taken on a thicker, deeper note, like it's caramelized. In the middle of the bed, Yuuri finds Victor moaning softly, surrounded by almost all of Yuuri's clothes and sweating, naked, on top of all their sheets. He's facing away from the door, but in the curtained room, slivers of daylight catch on the slick down his thighs and ass. Yuuri knows Victor probably didn't hear him come in, from the way Victor hikes a leg up and grinds against the pillow he's straddled.

Yuuri gulps, and if the smell wasn't enough, the sight of Victor definitely has his pulse racing.

"Victor?" He calls, and Victor pauses, sitting up for a moment to turn towards the direction of Yuuri's smell and voice.

" _Yuuri_ ," Victor nearly sobs to see his fiancé, and Yuuri crosses the room to let Victor pull him bodily down into their bed. "I thought you would _never_ come."

Victor's skin is warm and flushed, even in the darkness, and Yuuri runs his hands along Victor's sides as Victor attacks his mouth with a barrage of kisses. An exploratory touch of his hands down Victor's torso and past his erection makes his fingers slip through the smooth slick, and Yuuri gasps into Victor's lips. "You're so _wet_. Your heat's early?"

"What an observation," Victor pants, trying to push himself down into Yuuri's hand. "I've been like this for what feels like _hours_ , Yuuri, please don't make me wait." A well placed upward hip roll makes Yuuri hiss with the friction, and Victor grins, playfully nipping at Yuuri's neck. The resulting heady burst of Yuuri's scent makes his head swim, and he parts his legs wider around Yuuri's waist like reflex. The motion makes Yuuri drop his head to Victor's shoulder, and his mind is going cloudy— oh, god, he's going into rut. The realization makes him snap his head back up, and he sits back, taking a slow breath. The glasses on his nose are perched on the nightstand, and his shirt and shorts are thrown god-knows-where as Victor crosses his legs behind Yuuri, stubbornly refusing to let him go.

"I want you so badly," choked up, Victor tries to yank him closer with his legs, but Yuuri stays firmly in place, a little jarred by the gleam of frustrated tears in Victor's eyes. "God, I'm so _horny_. What are you waiting for? I've told you so many times. I want you, I want you, _I want you_."

Yuuri doesn't really have the words to reply, so he wraps his arms around Victor instead, pulling him up to a sitting position, and hugs him tight. "I do too," Yuuri murmurs, and then he's curling a finger into Victor's wet entrance from behind, cursing under his breath when it slips in without a hitch and Victor presses back into the intrusion. Victor is horribly vocal in most things, and heat-sex is no exception— they've done this before, but the noises Victor makes as he's fingered are like no other. Two fingers, then three, go easily in, and Yuuri finds out that if he rubs the pads of his fingers against the softness where Victor's rimmed for a knot, Victor shudders and curls into himself, fingernails scratching gently at Yuuri's chest. Clearly, Yuuri's concentrating too hard on eliciting reactions from his partner, because Victor grabs his wrist, frowning at Yuuri heatedly.

"Darling, I love you, but if you don't put yourself in me _right now_ , I may have an aneurysm." He snaps, though the venom is severely cut by his arousal.

"I just don't want to hurt you." Yuuri mutters, catching Victor's lips to kiss him again.

"And you won't," Victor promises. "Now, _please_."

Yuuri puts his hands on Victor's nape and back and lowers him to the bed, and it'd been hard to see Victor before, with his face concealed in his shoulder, but he can see him now. Victor is sweating and blushing, and his scent is so strong that Yuuri groans, feeling his knot starting to fill already, threatening pressure at the base of his cock. Slowly, carefully, he guides his length into Victor, the slide smoother than ever before, and Victor cries out blissfully. Finally, _finally_ , they can have this connection. Yuuri's stiffened up, hissing a curse with shoulders heaving from the effort of holding back, and only when Victor offers him a smile does he begin to move.

Oh, but _move_ he does.

Something turns on inside him; maybe instinct, or confidence— but what matters is that he's holding Victor's hips up, anchoring him, and thrusting in with a rhythm so perfect Victor sees stars.

Victor could choreograph an entire career's worth of routines dedicated to the reverence he feels right now, the friction such a blessing with the heat of his lover pounding into him. Yuuri's a master with his hips, but _feeling_ it is entirely different from simply watching. The drag of Yuuri's growing knot is raw inside him, pushing him up the bed so his hands are the only thing stopping him from hitting the tufted headboard, and the moans he's offering up are sure to make his throat sore after this first round, let alone the rest of his heat.

If heats with the man he loves render him voiceless, he'll gladly go unspeaking for the rest of his life just for this indulgence.

The friction comes to a stop and they both groan, Yuuri's knot locking them together. Victor whimpers, thighs are shaking with exertion and the shock of feeling so full, but Yuuri kisses him sweetly through it, never leaving Victor dangling for closeness.

Yuuri scrunches his face and digs his teeth into Victor's shoulder as he comes a short few ruts later, sending Victor along with him as the pheromones flooding his senses push him over the brink.

All Yuuri can do is collapse on top of Victor, and they rest for a while before Yuuri's knot recedes enough that he can pull out. There's off-white mixed into the slick that dribbles out of Victor's entrance, and Yuuri feels another jolt of arousal at the sight. Victor is boneless underneath him, looking much more content than when Yuuri entered their bedroom.

Wiping some traces of drool away from the corner of Victor's mouth, Yuuri flushes. Had that been good? It certainly seemed that way.

Victor blinks a few times before clasping his hands behind Yuuri's neck and kissing him deep, breaking away only when Yuuri's breath falters and he gasps for air.

"My Yuuri, my mate— that was _incredible_." Victor coos, kissing down the expanse of Yuuri's throat. The wetness of his ass doesn't bother him one bit after days spent that way, but the knowledge that Yuuri's release is inside him only spurs his enthusiasm.

Yuuri breathes a sigh of relief, finally relaxing at Victor's proclamation.

"But, well," Victor murmurs, "I hope you don't think we're done yet."

"We aren't," Yuuri agrees, "but we need to eat something before anything else."

Despite Victor's protests, he concedes, and they manage to get some energy bars and water down before they continue into the night and for the duration of the week.

 

* * *

 

The heat fog of their mingled scents has mostly cleared from the bedroom by the time they wake up after Victor's heat subsides.

It's up to Yuuri to clear away his own garments strewn around the room as Victor rests; Yuuri's muscles are aching, but he's sure Victor must be feeling much sorer.

When he crawls back into bed having put things away, grimacing at the dried up fluids soiling the sheets, he sinks into them heavily and Victor wakes. His eyes crack open blearily, and a huge grin widens across his face as he rolls into Yuuri's arms.

With the lengthy post-heat resting period and his comeback to figure skating slated for Fall, this will likely be his last heat for a while— but Victor has no doubt that heat or not, he'll have his fiancé to help him through it all.

When he does have another heat, it will be very much anticipated.

**Author's Note:**

> Thank you for reading! Comments and kudos are greatly appreciated.
> 
> Hit me up on my [main blog @ingthing](http://ingthing.tumblr.com/), my [NSFW/R18+ blog @blushunder](http://blushunder.tumblr.com/), or either of my twitters under the same usernames!


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